A faint smile appears."I'm reserving judgment on the mystery meat circles."
After she leaves, I stare at our half-eaten breakfast.
The casual domesticity of the morning—her in my shirt, sharing coffee and conversation—had felt dangerously right.
And therein lies the problem.
Because I'm starting to want more than one night.
More than professional collaboration with occasional lapses in judgment.
I want Karina Peters…
Not just in my bed, but in my life.
And that realization is far more terrifying than any viral hashtag.
18
SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING RUMORS
KARINA
My sister Viktoria has this look she gives me.
I called it her "Laser Eyes of Truth" when we were kids, and three decades later, it hasn't lost its power.
It's a penetrating, soul-stripping gaze that makes me feel like I'm twelve again, being interrogated about who finished the last of Mom's special occasion baklava.
She's giving me that look now, over artisanal avocado toast at a trendy Capitol Hill café, as Seattle's hazy July afternoon light filters through the windows.
It's been three days since I left Callum's yacht in his borrowed shirt, and I've somehow managed to maintain a veneer of professionalism at work despite the fact that I still remember exactly how his hands felt on my skin.
"You slept with him," Viktoria declares without preamble, cutting straight through my orchestrated small talk about the weather and her daughter's summer camp schedule.
I choke on my kombucha."Good morning to you too."
"It's 1:30 in the afternoon, and you're avoiding the question."
"That wasn't a question.It was an accusation."
"Fine."She sets down her fork, golden-brown eyes narrowing."Did you sleep with Callum Abernathy?"
I study the foam art on my latte."Define 'sleep with.'"
"Katherine Peters-Petrosian."Her use of my full name makes me wince."Did you or did you not engage in sexual activities with your boss, who happens to be the brother of the man who nearly destroyed your career and possibly stole your identity?"
The elderly couple at the next table suddenly becomes very interested in their scones.
"Could you say that a bit louder?"I hiss."I think there's someone in Bellevue who didn't hear you."
Viktoria doesn't flinch."Answer the question."
"Yes," I admit, lowering my voice."Sort of.But not exactly."
"How do you 'sort of' have sex with someone?"
"It's complicated."
